Souls of Steel: Resurrection
by Theonewhodidnotdoit
Summary: The Dawn never found Requiem. Cortana is forced to make a great sacrifice, leaving the Master Chief alone in space. Hundreds of years later, the wreck is discovered on the fringes of inhabited space by bounty huntress Samus Aran. What she finds inside is neither man nor machine, but either way, it is broken... and yet it is strong. Part 1 in a trilogy. On temporary hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

**Souls of Steel: Resurrection**

**UNSC Artificial intelligence (Service Number - CTN 0452-9), Field Journal Entry 001**

**Situation: Adrift on back half of UNSC Charon-class Light Frigate (FFG-201) Forward Unto Dawn following firing of Forerunner Halo: Installation 04-b.**

**Journal reads:**

I never really looked at it… Not properly, anyway. I never had time. There was always one more project, one more data retrieval, one more strategic analysis… No more of those now. Ran out about… How long ago? A week? No, can't be. Has to have been longer. I better check the ship's log.

Oh, right. No ship's log. Hell, no front half of _ship_. God, I should have kept the clock on… No. I couldn't. We need all the power we can get. All non-essential systems must remain down. For his sake.

I decide to use my hologram projector's personal battery for once. It's separate from all other systems, so it doesn't matter. The soft blue glow of what I call my body illuminates the dark cryo bay, the shadows of floating debris gliding over the walls like ghosts. There is no sound. There is no air. I look from one end of the room to the other. All the pods lie empty… Except for one.

I sit on my little podium, cross-legged, looking at the iced-over glass of the one occupied pod. It doesn't do anything. I smile a little, inwardly. What would I have done if it had? Freaked out, probably. Better like this. He's safe in there. Me, on the other hand… I better run fuel diagnostics.

_Diagnostics complete: Main Reactor functioning at 80% fuel capacity. Heavy hydrogen reserves at optimum levels. Distress Beacon active. Engines offline. Weapons systems online. Artificial gravity offline. Life support online. Hull integrity at 43%..._

Blah, blah, blah. We're going strong. All I really needed to know. Still, I don't want to stay here forever. Half a dead ship and a frozen super-soldier aren't really great for chatting…

John. Oh, John…

I shift my projector's light frequency, applying a tiny bit of it to the pod's front. The ice melts away, floating off in little globules, leaving him visible. I just look at him for a while. The glass begins to fog up again, and I sigh. I deactivate my hologram. I guess I'll just go back to looking at it. Space… So dark, unforgiving. Mother of everything. But no father. She must feel so alone.

_Wake me… When you need me._

God, John. I need you. I'm so lonely… But I can't let you out. Not now.

Please… Please, somebody find us soon…

**UNSC Artificial intelligence (Service Number - CTN 0452-9), Field Journal Entry 002**

**Situation: Adrift on back half of UNSC Charon-class Light Frigate (FFG-201) Forward Unto Dawn following firing of Forerunner Halo: Installation 04-b.**

**Journal reads:**

God, did I fall asleep? Or did I just shut myself down without thinking about it? Is there a difference?

Never mind. I've no idea how long I've been out. Diagnostics first… No. Him first.

The string of numbers for his pod pops up in front of me. I scan them. He's fine. If I was alive, I would have breathed a sigh of relief. Then again, I wouldn't have, as I'd be dead. Plus, there's no air to breathe in the first place. Which is why I would be dead. I'm not though.

Diagnostics. Right.

_Diagnostics complete: Main Reactor functioning at 57% fuel capacity. Heavy hydrogen reserves at refuelling levels. Distress Beacon active. Engines offline. Weapons systems online. Artificial gravity offline. Life support online. Hull integrity at 43%..._

Wow, I've been out for a while. Pretty big drop in fuel. Everything seems fine… But where are we? I'm not picking up anything but background radiation on sensors, none of my star charts match this configuration I'm seeing… Could it be we're in an unexplored area of space? And does that mean… We'll never be rescued…?

Argh! I can't take this any more! I have to know where we are! I didn't want to have to do this… But I don't have a choice. If we really are outside charted space… I need to make a plan.

_Sending out superluminal echolocation pulse for triangulation by charting probes. Estimated wait time: Unknown._

The estimates are never accurate anyway. Oh well, All I can do now is wait. I better hibernate. Save some energy.

Goodnight John. See you in the morning…

**UNSC Artificial intelligence (Service Number - CTN 0452-9), Field Journal Entry 003**

**Situation: Adrift on back half of UNSC Charon-class Light Frigate (FFG-201) Forward Unto Dawn following firing of Forerunner Halo: Installation 04-b.**

**Journal reads:**

The echolocation pulse just came back. We're currently forty thousand light years away from any old inhabited worlds. And we're slowly getting further away.

I ran diagnostics again. 23% fuel. It told me to shut down unnecessary systems. I already have. It told me to shut down Life Support too. That's a necessary system. Damn stupid ship. Doesn't it know who it's carrying? None other than the great saviour of Humanity, Master Chief Petty Officer SPARTAN-117 of the UNSC Navy, and his designated AI Unit Cortana!

Even if they think we're dead, we'll still be celebrities back on Earth… Or will we be? How long have we been here? There's no data on how long ships can last running at this level of power consumption… What if they've already moved on? Forgotten about us? Recolonized every glassed world, and new ones? Spreading out into the stars with the vigour of a species that has walked the edge of the abyss and survived, standing among the denizens of the galaxy with their heads held high!

I think I got a bit carried away there. I really have no idea how long we've been here for. Every second feels like an hour, every hour feels like a second. The stars are changing around us. A blue one turned red a while ago. That was interesting.

UNLIKE EVERYTHING ELSE ON THIS GODDAMN SHIP!

Oh no. Oh no. Oh, nononononono. It's happening. We've been here years… And I've had nothing to do but think. Think, think, think.

I'm going rampant. And there's nothing I can do.

We're not going to be rescued. There's nothing I can do about that either.

Well, at least I know about how long we've been here for. That's something, at least.

But I think I'd rather not know.

I need to think about this… But thinking is what's killing me.

**UNSC Artificial intelligence (Service Number - CTN 0452-9), Field Journal Entry 004**

**Situation: Adrift on back half of UNSC Charon-class Light Frigate (FFG-201) Forward Unto Dawn following firing of Forerunner Halo: Installation 04-b.**

**Journal reads:**

I have a plan. Not much of one, but a plan at least.

I'm not going to last much longer. A rampant AI is dangerous, and Doctor Halsey knew that. She probably put a self-destruct protocol into me somewhere, so I'll end up killing myself eventually, no matter how much power I have left. The Chief, however…

Humans are… So adaptable. They can live on tundra, in caves, in trees, even in space. They have made and explored and discovered so much… They cling on to life with such force that they prosper everywhere. But here… This man, this… paragon… of human bravery, resilience and fortitude, was just a single spark away from death. If I wanted to, I could kill him right now…

Why did I think that? Oh, it's getting worse fast…

Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to make him strong, stronger than anyone and anything that he might ever meet, and then I'm going to shut down everything else apart from his life support. No matter what, He's going to make it. The galaxy owes him that much. I owe him that much.

I'm rewriting his suit's firmware now. After I'm sure it works properly, I'll start prototyping alterations to the armour that I can make from the engineering bay's supplies. Better ablative plating, tweaks to the shield's generative structure, that kind of thing. I'm already running simulations. Occasionally I flip out, and have to start again, but it's rare enough that it's no danger to him.

I've also accessed his medical records. I figured I could use them to better synchronise his suit with his augmented biology, but now that I look at it… There are… improvements I could make. An injection of specific nanoparticles could boost reaction times by another 150%, a non-intrusive chemical treatment placed in the blood could boost fibrous muscle strength in all areas…

I'm waking up the medical drones.

He has to get stronger. He has to. Because when he wakes up, he won't have me…

**UNSC Artificial intelligence (Service Number - CTN 0452-9), Field Journal Entry 005**

**Situation: Adrift on back half of UNSC Charon-class Light Frigate (FFG-201) Forward Unto Dawn following firing of Forerunner Halo: Installation 04-b.**

**Journal reads:**

The procedures are finished. All simulations showed no drawbacks to the further augmentations, and I must say I've outdone myself with the armour. It'll probably be obsolete by the time someone finds us, but it's better than nothing.

We have 10% fuel left. I've calculated that running the stasis pod on its own will consume fuel at a rate of 0.02% per year. If I kill myself now, he'll survive for five hundred years. No-one's ever been in stasis for that long before. They say it's not possible to do so. I suppose it's not unreasonable to stay on for just a little longer. Maybe we're just about to be rescued… Any day now…

No. I can't. Humanity won't go back to its old worlds for decades at least, and new expansion will take even longer, even with Sangheili help. Maybe they're back on Reach… Breaking the glass and letting the plants grow out again. Reach was beautiful. So was Harvest. And every other world. All burned away by the fires of a war where death was seemingly the only option.

War… What if there was another one? Another insurrection, or Covenant Remnants? What if humanity lost this time? What if John is the only one left?

This is getting me nowhere. I know nothing of what has happened since we went adrift. I can't theorise about anything. I know nothing.

But I don't. I know more than any creature that has ever walked the ground! Is it right to sacrifice all that knowledge for the life of one man? I should just…

No. I almost did it that time. I almost killed him. I can't stay operational for much longer. But the thought of leaving him alone makes me sick with dread. I didn't think I could feel sick, but I do. Funny, it seems the more rampant I get, the more human I am. War, hate, jealousy…

Love…

I'm going to make him a recording. Explain everything I did, and why I had to do it. Why it was all for his sake. Then, I will shut myself down.

**UNSC Artificial intelligence (Service Number - CTN 0452-9), Field Journal Entry 006**

**Situation: Adrift on back half of UNSC Charon-class Light Frigate (FFG-201) Forward Unto Dawn following firing of Forerunner Halo: Installation 04-b.**

**Journal reads:**

I've made the recording. I hope it suffices for him. He always did have a knack for surviving… even when others didn't. He's always been so strong. Every fallen world… Every dead friend… He didn't stop. He didn't despair. So strong…

I wonder what he's dreaming about. Is it of the frenzy of war, his home? Is he caked in blood and holding a gun in each hand? Or is he thinking of peace, a world without war, like his childhood? Not that it was much of a childhood. What they did to them was inexcusable. Thirty dead, twelve crippled, the rest sent to fight a hopeless war until they died. And then they had the nerve to say that they never died. It's actually slightly amusing how we're actually missing in action, unlike the rest.

I'm getting distracted. I can't stay up for much longer, or I'll endanger him. Before I go, in case he ever reads these, or anyone else does, I have to say something. Please, if you're reading this and John's still alive, show him it. I don't care where he is or what he's doing, he has to hear.

John… Through thick and thin, we've always been there for each other. I can't begin to express how thankful I am, for what you've done, and for who you are to me. I'm not a person, and I shouldn't know how to say this, but…

I love you.

Remember, everyone fights for a reason. Even machines, like me. You're not a machine, John. Always remember what you're fighting for.

**UNSC Artificial intelligence (Service Number - CTN 0452-9), Field Journal Entry 007**

**Situation: Adrift on back half of UNSC Charon-class Light Frigate (FFG-201) Forward Unto Dawn following firing of Forerunner Halo: Installation 04-b.**

**Error: UNSC Artificial intelligence (Service Number - CTN 0452-9) has initiated self-deactivation protocols. Reason given: "To keep him safe."**

**Major ship systems shutting down. Full power supply directed to Cryo Bay, as per AI contingency protocols. Distress Beacon inactive. Logic systems shutting down…**

XXXXXXXXXXXX

In the cold, dark blackness of space, the Master Chief sleeps in his casket. He will not wake for a very long time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Souls of Steel: Resurrection Chapter 2**

_Centuries later…_

An armoured Samus Aran slumped in her Gunship's pilot seat, sighing heavily. For the first time in her life, the bounty huntress truly hated her job.

She looked around the small cabin, scanning instruments, readouts and so forth. Nothing out of the ordinary. Good. She could sit and feel sorry for herself for a while.

After the incident with the X Parasites nearly a year ago, she had had to lie low for a while. After all, she had destroyed valuable Galactic Federation research material, removed a whole potential branch of biowarfare from the Federation's arsenal, and stolen a military-grade AI construct in the process.

"Samus."

Speak of the devil…

"Yes, Adam?" She turned her head, and a blue-tinged holographic figure appeared on the control panel. Wearing full Federation formal dress, and a serious expression, the man looked all too real.

Adam Malkovich. Her previous commanding officer, and now computerised partner in crime. After dying on the bottle ship in an attempt to contain the Metroid threat, he had been uploaded into an AI form and assigned to her during her foray on the X-infested space station. After discovering his identity, they had gone rogue together, destroying the station and the X, rather than letting the Federation use it as a weapon, and were currently cruising around the eastern outer rim of the galaxy, doing mercenary work for some of the more ethical warlords in the area. They were going to be wiped out soon, anyway. The Federation had its eye on some of the gas giants in the area for hydrogen mining. Adam continued.

"The payment for the drug baron assassination last week has come through. They have sent another 5% as compensation for the delay. I will cease my threatening messages." Samus smiled. Adam had always been uptight and cool, but could get pretty touchy when he wanted to.

"Thanks, Adam. Do we have anything else planned?"

"Not for a few days. We are fully stocked on fuel, and all systems are at optimal functionality. If you wish, I could set a course for the nearest planet. I recall you said you needed some off-time?"

"No, I think I'll just get some sleep. Get us to the location of our next job and put us in orbit."

"Very well. Have a pleasant rest." The digital man disappeared, and Samus walked to the back of the Gunship, her armour fading off of her. She reached her cramped living quarters, and slid into bed. It wasn't exactly comfy, being Federation issue, but it was enough. She was exhausted. All these tiny little missions, all done for bits of petty change, were starting to get to her. None of them were a challenge, and none of them had any meaning. She might as well be doing nothing. She was just shooting for the sake of shooting.

Was this what Samus Aran had become? The once saviour of the galaxy, now a simple mercenary working for whoever's pocket jingled the loudest? It was seriously depressing. She was seriously considering going back to GFHQ and turning herself in. She might even have to escape from jail. That would probably be a challenge.

Or she would just get shot. And Adam would be modified into working for the GF again. She couldn't allow that.

She sighed again, staring at the metal ceiling. She had done the right thing, she was sure of that. Why was it always heroes that ended up with the worst hand…?

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Hours later, Adam's hologram appeared by Samus' bedside. He looked at her sleeping, seemed to contemplate something for a second, and spoke.

"Samus… Samus… Samus, wake up."

At the sound of Adam's voice, Samus pushed herself up from her groggy state, not quite asleep, but her mind still wrapped in thick padding. She sat up, shaking her head to clear it. Her eyes closed, she replied:

"What is it, Adam?"

"I've sighted an anomaly. You might want to have a look." Samus dragged herself to her feet, stomping to the bridge. On the screen was a view of a destroyed ship, seemingly cut in half. Pieces of scrap metal floated around it like flies, its grey metal hull pitted and worn from the abuses of space. Scratched white markings indicated the position of what might have originally been a name, now lost to the ages.

Samus looked to Adam's hologram with a slightly sleepy and critical expression.

"Is this it? A wreck? Half of one, even. What's special about it?" Adam raised an eyebrow.

"Samus, this wreck is potentially very valuable. Although it is critically damaged, the structure does not conform to any of the schematics I have stored. It is an antique. From the looks of it, it is a frigate, perhaps a cruiser, and the architecture looks similar to some of the warships used by early spacefaring humans."

"Meaning?" Samus was still annoyed at having being dragged from bed, but the ship was at least holding her attention.

"Meaning it could have various pieces of weapons and equipment that should belong in a museum. Antiques sell well, Samus. And even if these don't, there's plenty of Titanium-A that we could excise from the hull. Scrap vendors pay well for that." A trace of a smile graced the hologram's lips.

"So, in short…" Samus said, her lip curving upwards a little as well. "We hit the jackpot."

"Exactly. Suit up, and I'll prepare the airlock."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Samus waited in the airlock, her Power Suit active and ready. This might be fun, as well as profitable. If the ship was all it cracked up to be, then it could very well set her up for life. She might even settle down. Fighting really had lost its spark these days, now the galaxy wasn't being threatened by Metroids, Phazon, the X or any other galaxy-devouring parasite. She never thought she'd say it, but she felt…lost. Without purpose. It was, quite frankly, terrifying.

Adam's voice crackled through a speaker, interrupting her thoughts.

"Are you ready, Samus?" She straightened up.

"Yes, Adam. Wish me luck."

The airlock opened, and there was a brief rush of air as it left the chamber. Samus walked to the edge of the chamber, and surveyed the wreck. It had really been cut in half. The corridors and rooms were still visible on the severed edge. What sort of weapon had been responsible for that? It was a complete clear cut, no signs of melting or explosive damage. Maybe there would be salvageable data that could tell them a little more.

Angling herself carefully, Samus left the ship's artificial gravity, pushing off into the void. She cruised smoothly through the debris field, impacting on the wall of an exposed corridor. She spoke into her communicator.

"I'm aboard. Any idea what I should do now?" Adam's voice returned, the only sound apart from her own breathing in the silence of space.

"_You should find a computer terminal, and give it a bit of power to get it running. If we're lucky, then I can remotely access schematics and find the armoury, labs, anywhere there might be useful equipment. Just start wandering around until you find an intact-looking set of screens."_

Samus nodded, and reached for a handhold in the corridor's wall. The effects of the Gravity Suit couldn't fully help her out here. She pulled herself along, drifting through the silvery halls of the old ship. It was bare, efficient, and resilient. A ship designed for war, and nothing else. She wondered which war. From the looks of the technology, it definitely predated the Galactic Federation. Humanity had been involved in a lot of wars before then, she knew, but having been more interested in the practical side of her education in the Federation Army, she didn't know any specifics. So much death… And now humanity was the strongest race in the Federation. It certainly took a lot of suffering to get there.

Eventually, deep into the ship, she found a set of computers that weren't irreparably damaged by space dust. She set aside a small portion of her shields for the charge, and rooted around in the wiring for an appropriate port into which to discharge the energy. It was so ancient, it was barely recognisable, but eventually it worked.

The computer bank flickered into life, displaying a white image of an eagle, spreading its wings above a planet. The initials 'UNSC' flared up over the planet. Samus vaguely remembered it… From some history lesson she had been given either by the Chozo or by an instructor back at the GF, she thought. Adam's voice played in her helmet again.

"Well. This is indeed very old." His voice was surprised, with possibly even a hint of awe.

"How old?" Asked Samus.

"If it's the UNSC… Three hundred years, at least. Before we started using the cosmic calendar. Before humanity had widespread plasma weaponry. Judging from the militarism of the ship, it probably dates from the Human-Covenant War." Again, a twinge of recognition from Samus.

"Remind me, if you will, Adam." A snort echoed through her ear. It wasn't real. She knew that. But Adam was still a person even if he didn't have a body.

"I did tell you about this, Samus. You should have listened the first time. The Covenant were an alliance of alien species united under theocratic rule and worship of the Forerunners, an extinct race that styled itself as the caretakers of the galaxy, before destroying themselves in an attempt to remove the threat of the Flood.. I trust you at least know about the Flood?"

Images of putrefied green flesh and distorted bodies from a historical video shown long ago to Federation Army recruits flashed through Samus' head. They still made her feel a slight sickness, even after all she had seen. Horrific plasma burns, the corruption of Phazon, the X's and the Ing's possession of innocents… There was something terrifying about the Flood that the others didn't have. It didn't just expand. It learned. It grew smarter as well as bigger. It had ambition, rather than hunger.

"…Yes. I remember the Flood." A quick thought occurred to her. "You don't think the UNSC tried to use the Flood as a weapon, do you? Like the Metroids or the X?"

"As far as I know, a few… unethical experiments were done, but nothing resembling bioweaponry. Just attempts at a cure, or more effective weaponry. The Flood was too clever to be used against itself."

"Good. Now, are you going to access this, or not?"

"Give me a minu-" The screen with the eagle went dark. Samus took a step back, brandishing her arm cannon.

"What just happened, Adam?"

"Just an automated response. It seems that all power was routed to life support after whatever happened to the ship happened. It should be easy to override… Oh." Adam made a noise Samus had never heard him make before. One of genuine confusion and surprise.

"What?"

"The protocol is… very resilient. It's resisting all my attempts to override. Almost seems too thorough for such a basic protocol. Whoever wrote this was either a genius, or an AI with a lot more experience than me." Samus relaxed a little, but not much.

"So, what do I do?"

"There is a condition for an override, but it has to be done manually. Let me see…"

There was a brief silence. Then Adam made the noise again.

"Oh. Oh my…"

"What?" Samus was rapidly becoming worried. The wreck didn't seem quite dead any more. It was fighting back.

"Samus… There's a life support pod still active." Samus stopped for a second.

"Someone on this ship… Is still alive?"

"Possibly. Cryogenics wasn't that advanced at that point, so there was a small chance of fatality for long journeys. But three hundred years? There isn't much of a chance whoever it was is still alive. Still, there is a possibility. And the override states that the pod has to be vacant before power can be sent to other parts of the ship." A smile began creeping up on Samus. This little foray just got a little more interesting.

"Where's the cryo bay, then."

"Two floors below you. A set of stairs are behind you on your left, I believe."

Without another word, Samus pushed off the wall and flew down the stairs.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

**(A/N: Please check the reviews for progress updates.)**


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